


To find solace at the bottom of a beer glass.

by warlock_of_high_hell



Series: From Remus' perspective [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I mean I hate reading stuff like this so this makes zero sense, I still don't know why I write angst like this, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24080161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warlock_of_high_hell/pseuds/warlock_of_high_hell
Summary: Remus mourns the death of his best friends and his lover being in Azkaban in a muggle bar, recounting the events of the past few years.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: From Remus' perspective [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737274





	To find solace at the bottom of a beer glass.

**Author's Note:**

> Aside from the fact that if James or Lily had been the secret keeper then none of this would ever have happened... yeah.

The bartender placed the drink in front of Remus and he nodded a thanks. 

Years ago, he would have had Padfoot sitting next to him. His Padfoot, who would have been the life and soul of the party, who would have known how to cheer Remus up with just a look. They would have gone home and done what lovers did, and Remus would have felt like he was in heaven, because if he considered everything, every moment with Padfoot really was heaven.

Remus took a swig of the muggle beer and set the glass down again. He didn’t really believe – he didn’t know what to think, actually. He knew Prongs had made Padfoot the secret keeper, but after that it didn’t make sense. Sirius had considered Prongs family – the parents and the brother he never got to have. He had loved them like family – would never have betrayed them even if his life depended on it. Would have rather died for James than give him up to Voldemort. There was no other explanation though – the only way the Fidelius charm would have let Voldemort through was if he knew about it. And the only was he would have been able to do that – was through Padfoot. 

He still remembered hearing the news that night. It had been everywhere – Voldemort was vanquished, Harry Potter – the boy who lived.

He had been one of the few people who knew what the cost was, of this news. It hadn’t been some order member – they hadn’t even been close on any of their missions of finding Voldemort, let alone to kill him. He supposed now that he had had time to think about it, that with the secrecy of the war going on he wouldn’t have known half the stuff that was going on, especially when he was cavorting with other werewolves. With Fenrir Greyback – whose name still made shivers crawl down his spine, despite the fact that it had been years since anyone had heard of him. 

No; he heard the news of the boy who lived and his immediate thoughts went to Prongs and Lily. Two of the reasons he was going undercover and living in squalor and dealing with monsters who made him wonder whether life really was worth living. 

He had realised that if Voldemort had attacked Harry with a killing curse and it had rebounded – and if Lily and James were dead – then there was only one reason they had been found. Only one way they could have been found. It hadn’t been long before the name Sirius Black had popped up in the rumour mills. 

He had been found laughing – and here Remus felt a wave of nausea he drowned with another swig of muggle beer – in front of the Potters house, the street blown to hell with bits of Peter all over it. 

Remus hadn’t believed it at first – hadn’t wanted to believe it. Had hoped that it was all misinformation, and that Padfoot was alive and well and not in Azkaban. But as time went on it had been harder and harder to deny, and Remus was forced to face the truth. That his best friend – and lover – with the handsome face and the gorgeous eyes and the breath taking smile – was a traitor. 

He had received a letter from one of the few friends he had left in the order – detailing the events. It was one of the last correspondences he had had with anyone in the order. They all had lives to get back to – rebuilding and creating new memories with their family. Why would any of them care about a lonely werewolf in his twenties who had lost everything he had been fighting for in one night?

He supposed they weren’t the only ones at fault; he had been unresponsive to any owl they had sent for a while, until the owls had stopped coming. He had pushed them all away – hadn’t wanted any reminder of the world he hated. He didn’t want to see them happy and living their lives, a reminder of what he had lost, what he would never have. 

He didn’t need anyone else, though. He skimmed from muggle job to muggle job, from back room to back room, barely getting by. He didn’t have any friends – the closest he supposed he had was the bartender, who seemed to pity him more than anything. It didn’t bother him now though – or it did, but he could drown his thoughts in whatever muggle beer and it would be alright. Other people found their solace in the people in their lives – so what if he found his in the bottom of a beer glass? He had no one there to stop him – no one who cared enough. 

Once, there was a man who would have cared enough. Once, a long time ago – and a world away – he would have had friends to spend the night with. 

That had all ended though. 

The one thing that had cemented the belief that Padfoot was somehow guilty – as if everything else hadn’t been enough on its own – was the fact that he had given Hagrid his bike. He had only found out about this a few days ago, but the memories it brought were still fresh, which had been the reason he had been drawn to this bar. 

Padfoot had loved that bike – had absolutely adored it from the moment he bought it. It had been amusing to Remus, who watched him fawn over the bike, an action he soon came to find cute and endearing. He hadn’t been able to imagine a world where Padfoot would have given up the bike voluntarily – not unless he had known that there was no coming back to this world. That what he had done had been so bad that he couldn’t face looking back. That he couldn’t face seeing his reflection in the mirror. 

He supposed that no matter how well you thought you knew a man, you never really knew him. Padfoot had hated Death eaters – had left his family because they were pressuring him into becoming one – yet there he was, languishing in Azkaban, having betrayed his best friend to the worst of them all. 

He signalled to the bartender.

If this was going to be a long night, he would be damned if he remembered most of it.

**Author's Note:**

> WHY COULDN’T JAMES HAVE BEEN THE SECRET KEEPER???
> 
> (Also, Rowling could have kept up a lot of continuity if Bill had been the secret keeper of Shell cottage. If she’d had another Weasley be the secret keeper instead, then maybe it might not have worked plotwise or whatever, but there would have been continuity for fans, and no one criticising her for this)
> 
> (And just to point out, in an interview somewhere she apparently said she doesn’t read the books after they’re published, which kinda makes sense if you think about all the non-canon stuff she’s been doing. Since the books are great, but the films and everything she has tweeted has just been downhill in quality.)
> 
> (I promise that’s my rant over)


End file.
